


A Late Lawyer

by PixelByPixel



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Don't call him late to dinner, Guns, M/M, Matt Being Matt, Protective Frank Castle, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29389902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelByPixel/pseuds/PixelByPixel
Summary: Matt takes a short cut on his way home from work.Of course, everything goes perfectly fine. Why wouldn't it?
Relationships: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94
Collections: Fratt Week





	A Late Lawyer

**Author's Note:**

> This is for day 6 of Fratt Week, "heart". 
> 
> As always, thanks and <4 to [titC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC) for the beta and for all the time when I just couldn't deal with writing (or much of anything).

_Stupid,_ Matt tells himself. And, _Careless._

He stayed late at the office and started for home when it must have been well past dark. He didn’t think anything of taking the shortcut through the alley. His mind, still lost in the intricacies of tomorrow’s case, failed him. He didn’t pay attention and now he is, officially, fucked.

And not in the good way, though he’s pretty sure that’s happened in this alley, too, though much later at night than it is now.

He can smell the gun that’s leveled at his chest.

Ordinarily, this would not be an issue. He’d kick the mugger’s ass, tie him up with the zip ties he carries as a matter of course these days (they're useful for all sorts of things!), make an anonymous call to the cops, and go home, content in the knowledge that he’s made the Kitchen a little safer.

Problem is, he’s coming straight from work. The suit he’s wearing is double-breasted, tie loosened; no ropes, and, more importantly, no mask. He’s got the cane, the glasses, the briefcase.

And the mugging he interrupted is of a former client. There are a lot of them in the Kitchen by now, and Mrs. Ramos wears a distinctive perfume; it’s definitely her. Kicking the mugger’s ass, as wonderful as it would feel, would have _consequences_.

Thing is, Matt hears the mugger’s heartbeat, and Mrs. Ramos’s, and another one, faster: little Joey Ramos, hiding behind the dumpster, for now, probably shoved there by his mom but just old enough to think he can stop what’s happening. Kid’s watched too many superhero movies, probably idolizes Tony Stark. Probably has a freaking Iron Man action figure. 

Not that Matt thinks there should be a Daredevil action figure. He's not a _superhero_. He just does what needs to be done - which is sounding a little too much like Frank, right there.

The kid can’t stop it. He’s what, ten years old? Matt knows what ten-year-olds can do - well, normal ones - and this isn’t something Joey can fix. His dad’s gone, too, killed in a construction accident last May; Nelson and Murdock got to know Mrs. Ramos when the company refused to pay, said Oscar had been drinking on the job.

Matt remembers the stories of Oscar’s dad, how he’d get drunk and hit his wife, hit his kids. Oscar never touched the stuff. Matt and Foggy won that case, but this situation seems a little more fraught.

The mugger turned when Matt came down the alley and leveled his gun at Matt in a move that seemed instinctual. Finally, he speaks. “Oh, bad timing.”

“Let him go,” Mrs. Ramos urges, her voice gone shrill with panic. “Look at him. He’s blind! He hasn’t seen you. He can’t identify you.”

As if Matt would leave. Besides, the gunman has a distinctive voice, a Boston accent Matt would know anywhere.

He drops his briefcase and his cane. “Pauly, why are you doing this?”

The gun twitches in Pauly’s hand and Matt wonders if this is it. How good a shot is Pauly? Would the bullet pierce his heart and kill him quickly? He doesn’t want Joey to see that. Kid’s been through enough.

Mrs. Ramos sighs, a little exasperated. “Why?” she breathes, and Matt knows she wants to know why he’d ask that, why he’d let Pauly know Matt knows his identity.

“You’re that lawyer,” Pauly realizes aloud. “The blind lawyer. Fuck.”

“Look, have you hurt anyone, Pauly? Ma’am, are you okay?” He’s not going to give Mrs. Ramos’s name.

“I’m fine,” she replies, her voice shaking a little. “But -”

But Joey. She’s terrified for him, and Matt can feel the kid’s tension. He’s gearing himself up to do something.

“Pauly, if you haven’t hurt anybody, you can just go. I’m sure this lady won’t press charges.”

“I won’t,” she agrees fervently.

“If you need money, there are organizations that can help.”

Pauly scoffs, and privately Matt agrees. The organizations he has in mind are all underfunded and have plenty of people they’d consider more deserving than Pauly.

“You’re a lawyer - you’ve gotta have cash. Give me your wallet. Slowly,” he adds, as Matt reaches into a pocket.

“Have to tell you, we still get paid in pie about a third of the time,” Matt says, groping for his wallet.

It occurs to him that he’s late getting home. He didn’t text Frank.

Frank, well, he worries. Makes assumptions. And in this case, the assumptions wouldn’t be wrong.

Matt's gotten himself in trouble. 

He should hurry.

Still, he can’t help but ask, as he tosses over his wallet, “Can you leave my ID? It’s such a pain in the ass to replace.”

That, and maybe Pauly will put down that gun. Of course, he’s lived in New York long enough that he doesn’t keep his ID, or even most of his cash, in the wallet he gave Pauly.

“Think I’m stupid? Just because I didn’t get some fancy law degree doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Pauly bends down to grab the wallet, gun still aimed in Matt’s direction, and then shoves it into a pocket.

Matt steps toward Pauly, though at an angle that will shift the gun further from Mrs. Ramos and Joey if Pauly tracks him - which he does. “I don’t know if you’re stupid, man. I don’t know you, except from around the neighborhood. But armed robbery is a stupid choice.”

He hopes Mrs. Ramos gets why he’s doing it. Her, he knows; she’s smart. She sidles toward the dumpster and Matt keeps talking, hoping to distract Pauly. “I heard Bill Cozensa is hiring.”

“Work in a bodega?” Pauly spits on the ground.

“Honest work,” Matt replies with a shrug. “You’re not going to go to jail for working in a bodega.”

“I’m not going to go to jail for this, either,” Pauly replies, sounding agitated.

Mrs. Ramos reaches the dumpster and Matt desperately hopes that Joey doesn’t do something stupid, that Pauly doesn’t hear. It’s like juggling, and Matt worries that he’ll drop a ball.

And then he senses a familiar heartbeat approaching from above. The rooftops are close enough here that Frank can cross them easily enough, and it appears this is what he’s chosen to do. He’s too far for Matt to be able to tell if he’s armed, but Matt can make a pretty good guess.

Mrs. Ramos moves slowly, the better to avoid calling attention to herself, which is _good_ , but Matt really wants this wrapped up before Frank gets here. He doesn’t like Pauly, particularly right now, but he also doesn’t want him dead.

“You can still leave,” Matt urges. “You’ve got my wallet - you got some cash out of all this.” Probably about ten bucks, but Matt isn’t going to say that.

Mrs. Ramos and Joey have started to move behind Pauly and toward the mouth of the alley.

Frank is getting closer.

Matt can feel his heartbeat speeding up.

Joey trips over Matt’s briefcase.

Shit.

Pauly whips around just as Mrs. Ramos grabs Joey’s hand and bolts for the street. They manage to get around a corner and somebody falls, but Mrs. Ramos shouts for help.

“- your fault!” Pauly yells as he turns back to Matt, the gun leveling at his heart once more.

The world freezes. Matt has to make himself breathe.

The gunshot shatters the air and Matt waits for the pain. This could do it, could end everything. Pauly’s close enough that he can’t miss.

He hears the wail as Pauly falls to the ground, and then the feet pounding around the corner as Mrs. Ramos arrives with the cavalry.

Matt gropes at his chest.

Nothing.

He tips his head back at the sky and hears Frank whisper, “Should have left on time,” before the chaos of the arriving people overwhelms his senses.

Pauly, whimpering, clutches his hand as he sits up. Somebody secures his gun.

“Who got him?” a man asks. “Damn, that was a good shot.”

Matt holds up his hands to indicate that he’s unarmed. “I didn’t see.”

Somewhere, he’s sure, Frank is laughing.


End file.
